Savannah Winchester
by Born2BAWriter4
Summary: Sis!fic16yr old Savi Winchester has been popping pills to cope but recently she starts to hear voices inside her head. No longer able to keep it a secret, she tells her twin, which then whirlwinds into disaster. With a dark secret from the past, risky alliances made, she will go out of the way to protect her siblings. But when a deal is made and someone dies has Savi gone too far?


**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural! All right belong to the original copyright. Although Molly and Savannah are mine **** Yes, this is a sisfic. But no, it is not like all the others. It roughly follows the series, but centers on Savannah and the plot I have mostly created. Personalities may be a bit different from the show, though similarities are taken into consideration. **

**I hope you enjoy and please review, rate, fav and follow! The reviews mean the most though, as they do to any writer. So please, if you just want to say you enjoyed it or if you have any feedback please let me know! I'm just a young writer trying to gain as much experience as she can!**

**And without further ado I introduce you to Savannah Winchester and my take on SUPERNATURAL **

**Chapter One**

"_In time, you will not be able to stop it." His words sound like spitting on steel and have a tinge of venom. _

"_You can't make me," I whisper, eyes tight shut. _

"_Soon it will become undeniable. It is your destiny. And you will succumb to it."_

"_Like hell," I scream, opening my eyes. They are filled with a blinding flash as the unnamed man disappears in a brilliant flash of light. _

_I fall backwards onto my hands and pain shoots up to my shoulders. _

_Then they come like a swarm; the voices. My fingers itch and my brain screams for release, but I supress the urge. I can't let it take over me. I have to stop it. It becomes too much, almost unbearable and I open my mouth and scream. _

My eyes wrench open and I stare into the worried face of my twin, Molly. "Savi," she whispers, her breath smelling like peanut butter. I know my sister was downstairs in Bobby's kitchen for a late night snack. She always eats a PB&J when she can't sleep. "You okay?"

She removes her hand from my mouth and sits up, wringing her hands, her eyebrows furrowed together.

"I'm fine." I sigh, propping myself up on my elbow and instantly wince. Damn it. I totally forgot that was the injured arm. Damn bullet shot clean through my arm at least, but left enough damage that it's still painful after two weeks.

"Nightmare again?" Molly asks. Her eyes are filled with that ever-present worry whenever she wakes me up from these friggen nightmares.

"Yeah," I grumble, turning over onto my good arm and grabbing for the Advil on my bedside table. My heart jumps when my hand lands on the pill bottle. I quickly close it in my fist and shove it under my pillow, praying Molly couldn't make out the clear orange plastic in the dark. She doesn't mention it.

"Was it still the same? White lights, man screaming about your destiny, the voices?"

"Yeah," I sigh. "Except this one just seemed so real."

"You say that about every one."

"Yeah, but I don't know Molls, this one just…the man seemed real and the light hurt my eyes. Like physically _hurt. _I swear, they are still burning."

I blink hard, and see spots in the dark of the room.

"Maybe we should call Dean," Molly says. I instantly whip my head to her, grab her hand.

"No," I say firmly. "You promised." I lean forward, hold her face in my hands and make her hazel eyes look at me. "You promised Molly."

"Okay," she pushes me away, scooting off the bed and throwing back the covers. "But I'm sleeping with you. That way, if you get those nightmares again I can shut you up before Bobby hears."

"Right," I say, scooting over and making extra room for her. She puts her sock feet into the covers and snuggles down with me. "Dean and Sam were getting suspicious, don't want Bobby to find out. That man knows how to break me into telling sometimes more than Dean or Sam can."

I think of Dean's rage, Sam' stubbornness. Sure they can break me if I want, make me tell them things, but this secret I can't let them know. I almost panicked when they mentioned ever so discreetly that they were dropping Molls and I off at Bobby's for a month. If he found out about the nightmares I've been having, he for sure would make me tell my brothers. Why are we here? To 'rest', Dean said. Bull. I know he's worried 'cause I seem tense lately and Molly's more moody, which she never usually is. Want a classic definition of chill pill? That's my sister.

I know he and Sam think we still have to 'deal with Dad's death'. Well that happened almost six months ago and frankly, I don't want to think about it. I haven't gotten over it, no way. But the old man and I weren't exactly close. Why would I love someone who calls himself my father and yet drops Molly and I off at a boarding school for four years and then just decides to die one year after Dean comes and gets us? I hardly knew him. Aren't dads supposed to do all that cliché stuff with you? You know, teach you how to ride a bike, scare off the boys when you hit the teen years, protect you from anything? Maybe he did the last part, or at least he _thought _he did the last part by dropping Molls and I off at Illinois Boarding School for Girls when we were ten after that freak accident that almost killed Molly and got me…well…I rather not talk about that one; only coming back in the summer to visit for two weeks at a time and then leave again?

Molly sighs beside and whistles through her nose and I know she's sound asleep. I can't seem to fall asleep though. I sigh, frustrated and turn over, staring at the glowing letter of my alarm clock. **3:08am.** I've always been a shit sleeper, no matter what. I seem to get that from what happened when Molly and I were babies. Even though I don't remember the night when Mum was killed, Sam explained to me that the trauma part of the memory had stayed in my brain and I don't do well with the dark.

I hate the dark to be honest. You're essentially blind and vulnerable. And I hate not being able to see what's going on around me. If I'm not in control I'll freak and my siblings know it. Sam says I get it from Dean, though I like to think I'm not as control-freaky as he is.

Okay, this is ridiculous. Here I am lying in bed going over my whole damn life story. I will _never _be able to get to sleep. I groggily sit up, grab the .45 from under my pillow (so like Dean, I know), grab my flashlight so that I can see, pull the pill bottle from underneath my pillow and get out of the room as fast as I can. I don't even bother being quiet, seeing as when Molls is asleep, she will stay asleep unless you threaten to shoot her, and that doesn't always work because the sub-consciousness part of her brain knows when it's Dean, Sam or I talking to her.

I go into the bathroom from across the hall and turn the light on slightly so it's dim. I hate bright lights at night. Propping my gun and the flashlight on the counter, I open the pill bottle and place somepills in my hand. Shoving them into my mouth I swallow them dry; a skill I've been perfecting the last few months. I close my eyes, wait for the feelings and emotions to slip to the back of my brain and for the calming, fuzzing effect to take over. I won't sleep down, unless I down a couple sleeping pills but part of me doesn't really want to sleep. I walk out of the bathroom, gun in one hand and leave the flashlight on the counter. I'm much calmer now and don't need as much protection. Heck, in the last few months since I've been poppin' the pills I can even shoot straight when I'm on a high. Well, I can hit the eyeball, maybe not the pupil, but the eyeball definitely.

I make my way to the kitchen and open the fridge, smiling. Bobby only stocks the fridge to the max with food when he knows Molls and I are coming. There's cheese, and berries, and yogurt and pizza and just about everything else. Molly insists on eating healthy. And even though I don't like to admit it, lately I've been craving the fresh stuff lately as well. Dean will still chomp down a burger in one single gulp, but Molls has even got Sam onto the protein shakes…I think he likes those a bit too much.

When we were in Minnesota hunting down a vamp nest about a year ago, we stopped at a road side diner and ordered the usual; take out. That whole next two days and nights the four of us were throwing up our guts into the motel bathroom. Turns out it was some kind of food poising in the hamburger meat. That freaked Molly out and then she started looking up facts about cows and how they kill them and she's basically convert to a vegetarian diet. Hell, she even does a few squats when she's bored.

One good thing that came out of it though was that I got into running. Molls kept bugging me to join her and when I finally did one morning just to shut her up I realized that I actually love it, just the morning sun, the mist in the air, the open road and you. It's a stress reliever, Molly told me and it makes you happier in general. Once Dad died, Molly stopped running. I guess she just didn't have the heart for it, but I found it my only coping mechanism, of course when the voices started that was their favorite place to get to me and I could no longer run…sober. But running on a high is even better in some ways. I guess it's good Molly doesn't come for runs anymore with me. She'd know something was different.

I grab some cheese and crackers and cold cuts and make myself little sandwiches, giggling to myself as I guzzle down a beer with it. Dean would kill me, and I'm sure Sam would too, but they aren't here to see me so…tough. I'm walking around the table in circles, not really sure why when I am startled by a figure standing at the door. I stop short, adrenaline clearing my conscious and reach for my gun.

"Easy there, tiger," Bobby says, stepping into the dim light. His features seem drawn, cast out and tired in the long shadows that skitter at his feet. I sigh, putting my gun back on the table.

"Jesus, Bobby, scare me much. What the hell are you doing up this early?"

"Couldn't sleep. Heard someone in my kitchen. Came down. Been watching you for about three minutes now."

I gulp. _Shit. _The last three minutes I've been walking in circles mumbling to myself. Of course Bobby's gonna ask me the million dollar question.

"Are you drunk?"

I almost laugh in relief. Thank god he didn't suspect drugs. Nah, he thinks I'm too good for that. "Maybe," I say, purposely slurring my words. The 'high' part of my mind thinks that's pretty damn funny and I start to laugh. Bobby rolls his eyes and guides his hands on my shoulders, leading me out of the kitchen and to the living room where he sits me on the couch.

"You pretty lightweight, aren't ya?" he asks, gently taking the beer from my fingertips. I've only drunken half of it. Actually, it's Molls whose lightweight. I can guzzle three before I start to feel a buzz. But of course, I'm high…maybe a bit too high, I'm good at hiding it usually…why the hell am I acting like this. Maybe I've just let my guard down because Bobby doesn't know me as well as Sam or Dean and I can't slip up even a bit with them around. I press my thumbs to my temples and try to recall how many pills I'd taken.

Two? I swear it was two.

"Savannah?" Bobby looks worried, he hardly ever uses my full name and I look up to meet his gaze. His face is sad. "Dean told me he was worried about you. Said he thought you and Molly needed time to grieve. Of course, I don't know why he thinks him and Sam are all peachy-peachy as well, but I thought you'd be doing alright."

"Hardly," I murmur.

"Of course not alright," Bobby corrects himself. "But ya know, with all the stuff that's been going down the last six months, I would think you'd be the one handling it healthy. Dean's more opt to drinkin' than ya."

"I'm a lot more like Dean than you might think," I breathe out, placing my head in my hands.

This sucks. I don't want to talk about it. The good think about being high, is that you can amplify emotions, meaning I can feel happy. But that also means I can feel ten times sadder. And I can't deal when I'm that sad.

"How are you really doin', Sav?" Bobby leans forward, looks me in the eye. I swerve to the right and stare at the alarm clock on the wall.

"As well as you can imagine."

"Not well." Bobby guesses.

"Pretty much sums it up."

"You told Dean or Sam?"

"I've told Molly a bit."

"But not your brothers?"

"They have enough shit to deal with, Bobby," I say. "They don't need a snot-nose kid sister bringing them down. You know how close we are to finding yellow-eyes? God, I feel like it's the only way to avenge Dad's death or something."

I'm surprised at how much I've shared with Bobby, and I might keep going, but that's when things start to get scary. _You were chosen. _I sit up fast.

"What was that?"

Bobby looks around. "What was what?"

_It is only a matter of time before we come for you. _"Not funny," I say to Bobby. "Molly?"

I stand up, look around frantically. _You cannot fight it. _

No. No. No. The voices only come when I'm running, and it's usually an unreadable whisper. This, is crystal clear, like the man in my dreams. "MOLLY!" I scream.

Bobby runs over to my and spins me around. "What the hell is it, Savi?"

"I heard…" I stop. "You didn't hear anything?"

"No." Bobby pauses, confused. "Savi, no one else is here."

"Right," I say, shaking my head. "Yeah, I'm probably just like, drunk. You know? I think I'm going to go back to bed. Molly might wake up and wonder where I am."

"You sure?" Bobby asks.

"Yeah," I wave him off and fake a smile. "I'm peachy-peachy."

Bobby smiles and rubs his chin. "Alright then kid, see you this morning. Gonna have one hell of a hangover no doubt though."

"Please don't tell Dean," I say over my shoulder.

Bobby winks at me. "It'll be our little secret."

"Thanks Bobby!" I call from the stairs.

"Don't wanna see you doing it again though!" Bobby calls after me. "I ain't gonna be hauling your ass out of bed ten o'clock every weekday morning! Slacker!"

I sigh, shaking my head and make my way up the stairs. I round the corner and slip back into my room. I hide the pills under my pillow, but not before checking how many I have left. _What the hell? _Two white pills gleam back at me. This morning I had six. Did I take four? God. That's a lot. Must be why I couldn't hide it. My head hurts like a bitch too. Not being able to concentrate anymore, I quickly relax into deep breathing beside Molly. I am about to fall asleep when I am jolted awake with one final message from the goddamn voice in my head.

_Enjoy the silence while you can. _


End file.
